The longest overdue update in the history of updates long overdue: I've sent more than twenty submissions to various agencies for the book and now it's time to wait for responses. And whilst there's no guarantee of any news for at least a month, I promise you all you'll know a whole lot more before the end of the year. In the meantime, thanks for your support, and enjoy the excerpt: [quote]The shipwright’s shed was on the northernmost point of the coast, before the cliffs began to rear with the Frestin Mountains, rising to the north. Dracin’s house and workplace stood on the last of the coastal shelf between the sea and the treeline of the forest, which stretched up the slopes for miles to the north and west: the perfect location for both timber and handing over the ships to their proud new owners as they set sail for the first time. It was only reluctantly that Malina began the ascent to Dracin’s workshop. Not only was she uncertain of this plan, she knew well that his lands were not perfectly safe, so close were they to the woods. Roving bands of orcs and bandits haunted the seemingly endless forest, and packs of wolves made sure that anyone who ventured too deep into their territory would never be seen again. Prior to Dracin’s arrival, no-one had dared set up a wood-cutting business in this corner of Amsond for many years. Dracin had arrived in Amsond from Benchil, leaving after a disagreement with the mayor threatened to ruin his enterprise. With ships made in Benchil having to be sailed to Amsond for business, the elf saw a ripe opportunity to set himself up in the port, bustling with business by this time. After an initial bout with a pair of young orcs, Dracin always ensured he was well equipped to deal with any attempts on his life or work, and the outlaws of the forest maintained their distance as a result. As Malina approached, she could hear the elf hard at work as usual, and allowed herself a small smile: business was good, and hopefully it would soon be her boat he was crafting inside. It then occurred to her that Dracin may be too busy to handle her request, either for the moment or the foreseeable future. It would be bad enough that the elf would be building her a ship she could barely sail or even row; if he couldn’t even build it in a timely manner, all her efforts might be truly in vain. She pursed her lips, resolving to find out regardless, and knocked on the wooden door. The sound of sawing stopped. After a moment, the door opened, and the burly, towering elf looked at the young lady in surprise, the sea breeze tugging at his long, golden-white beard. “...Malina?” Malina forced herself to smile. “Good mornin’, Dracin.” “And to you,” Dracin nodded, still surprised. “What can I do for you?” “I need your help,” Malina replied. “I need a boat.” Dracin made a confused movement. “...None at the docks today, then?” “I need...” Malina hesitated. “I need a smaller boat than them.” “...I see. Going for a solitary fish, are you?” “I’m certainly looking for somethin’,” Malina muttered. “Fair enough.” Dracin said, though his face betrayed his curiosity. The elf gestured her inside, and Malina glanced around the workshop in appreciation of the shipwright’s daily toil: in the middle of the large room, a large boat was being constructed. Curved ribs rose from what looked to Malina like the ship’s spine, which she knew was the keel, with planks nailed along its length forming the bottom of the vessel’s hull. Around the room a number of worktables were littered with wood, rivets and tools, a sprinkling of sawdust on a few floorboards here and there. “I’m in the middle of making another ship at the moment,” Dracin said. “But I’ve been in here for a few hours and could use some fresh air. I could go and get some of the timber for your boat.” “That would be very kind,” Malina smiled. The elf grinned and turned to his tables, gathering some tools. “So tell me,” he began. “How many people are going to be in this boat? Is it just you?” Malina blinked, considering a journey to Trimus alone. “It may be. I hope not, but it may be.” Dracin frowned, confused. “I need to know, Malina.” “Yes. Unless...” Malina hesitated again, considering Dracin as the tremendous elf faced her impatiently. “...Do you know any sailors who would be willing to sail in ...maybe dangerous waters?” “Dangerous waters?” Dracin scoffed. “The seas are largely safe even as far south as the badlands. Even the Sundown Sea isn’t unsafe at this time of year. Where exactly are you going to sail?” “...Beyond the badlands,” Malina said quickly. “Further south, to see what’s there. I should be ready for the worst if nobody’s ever been there.” Dracin’s eyes narrowed doubtfully. “And you’re doing this alone?” “If no-one else is brave enough, I haven’t a choice.” Dracin laughed heartily. “Do you even know how to sail?” “I could row,” Malina said. “Can you navigate?” “I would stay close to the shoreline.” The elf shook his head. “And be smashed against the rocks of the badlands when a wave overwhelms you and your little boat.” “Build the best,” Malina said firmly. “Then whatever happens is my own fault.” Dracin laughed again. “Well, you’ve got spirit, that much is certain.” He looked at the boat he was building. “Very well, then; I’m going to the forest for your wood. Would you like to join me? It’s a beautiful day.” Malina hesitated, taking a step back as Dracin moved about the workshop, gathering his tools and a few weapons. “That would be nice,” she said distractedly. “...How long will the job take?” “A few days at the most. It’s a small boat, after all. Not long. If you can’t pay me a pre-cost now, I’ll let you know the total cost when it’s done.” Malina frowned, but nodded. She looked up as Dracin held out a sword to her. “Mada alone knows what’s in the depths of that forest,” the elf murmured darkly as she took the blade, admiring it with caution. “I’ve been ambushed by outlaws and orcs more times than I’d like to remember.” “Are we likely to ...see ‘em?” Dracin shook his head. “They tend to stay away from my side of the forest these days, but on occasion they like to come a little closer.” He picked up a small axe and slid it into a hold on his belt, next to his sheathed sword. “Let’s hope that today’s not one of those days.”[/quote]